- The cute young man skiing past as I tried to surreptitiously (and safely) slow down at the bottom of a hill and turn to see if my husband was still
behind me. He said “Your dude fell,” then gave me a smiling, sly little
sideways glance. “I know you didn’t want him to.”
- The man off his skis, posing at the 13K maker, taking his
own picture of his face right next to the sign. I wished I had the generosity
to hop off my own skis and do it for him. But I didn’t.
- Skiing next to Jacque Lindskoog and seeing the look of
determined concentration on her face. I wanted to yell “I love you, Jacque
Lindskoog!” but couldn’t bear to bother her.
- The music booming out over the slope where the 39K club
hangs out. It lifted me up and carried me and I had tears. I vowed to remember
the song but of course I’d forgotten it by the next hill. You know which one it
is.
- The woman dressed as a leprechaun, dancing in the middle of
Bitch Hill, and the woman handing out pins who laughed as she chased us to zip
them right into our pockets.
- Skiing up Main Street, side by side with my husband, the
sidewalks lined with people cheering us on, me smiling so hard, having no idea
how I was managing to do that and keep moving without falling down.
- Crossing the finish line and skiing up to the tall and
skinny young man, with clouds of hair and beard, who stapled our 4
year pins on our bibs and told us “Congratulations!” with
whole-hearted
sincerity.
 |
| 2013 finishers |
- The young man working at the bag pick-up who expertly
watched people approach, dazed, wearing their Birkie bibs, looking around,
trying to make sense of a sea of numbers and white bags. He came up and put our
bags in our hands, calling out our numbers with the authority of a professional
announcer but the face of a high school sophomore.
- Walking unsteadily into the changing tent, knowing I could
never manage getting out of my wet clothes without a chair to sit on, but
seeing they were all in use. Just standing there, trying to make my brain work,
when a young woman in the corner gestured me over. She said “Ma’am, you can
have my chair!”
I was so grateful, and tried to think of what to say. “So
you skied the Birkie!” is what came out. She lit up and said “Yes! My first
one!” I said “Were you happy with your time?” and she looked at me,
uncomprehending. “I’m just happy I skied it!” Which is exactly how I felt the
first time. I was so tired I forgot about the point of the whole thing.
